


Zoey's Extraordinary Denial

by 5oomilesmore (byathousandcuts), byathousandcuts



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Simon doesn't know about Zoey's powers, Slow Burn, it's too complicated, soy sauce packets, too much to risk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28434555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byathousandcuts/pseuds/5oomilesmore, https://archiveofourown.org/users/byathousandcuts/pseuds/byathousandcuts
Summary: Simon still doesn't know about Zoey's powers. Zoey knows she has to tell him at some point, but the longer she holds off, the longer she can deny her true feelings for Max.
Relationships: (mentioned) Eddie/Mo (Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist), Zoey Clarke & Max Richman, Zoey Clarke/Max Richman, Zoey Clarke/Simon Haynes
Comments: 38
Kudos: 37





	1. The Day The Music Died

**Author's Note:**

> AU where Zoey actually loses her powers after Mitch’s death. However, when a certain someone brings her powers back, all Zoey can do is deny, deny, deny her true feelings.
> 
> Same-ish timeline as 2x01 though the story itself is canon-deviant. Thank you to Clarkeman Nation on Tumblr (especially Jade4813 and issyka) for beta reading!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After six weeks of cutting herself off from the outside world (and especially Max and Simon), Zoey finally emerges from her parents’ house.

Zoey hadn’t heard a single heart song since the day of her father’s wake. Even with Maggie’s weeping in her bedroom every night like clockwork and Emily and David grappling with the birth of their son, Zoey hadn’t heard so much as a single bar of music. She had been holed up in her childhood bedroom for the past six weeks grieving, all the while secretly, silently hoping to hear her mother’s, brother’s, or hell, even _Emily’s_ voice.

The last time Zoey’s power had stopped working was that day they had found out that Mitch’s medicine would no longer slow the progression of his disease. The news had hit her like a ton of bricks, so much so that _she_ had started singing out loud, no less than six times. That day had turned Zoey’s world upside down in more ways than one. 

Zoey thought back to her father’s wake. She had known it would be an emotion-filled event; Mitch had touched so many people’s hearts in his lifetime. When Maggie started singing those first few lines to what Zoey would later learn was “American Pie,” she was captivated. She watched as her mother, then Emily and David, and Mo, Simon, Joan, Howie, and finally, Max, sang their hearts out for Mitch and for her. And then after watching them sing, something strange happened: Zoey had started to sing, too. It was after all of their guests had left—her mother, David, and Emily had all sat down in the living room, frozen to their cushions. Zoey, however, kept singing the song.

_And they were singing_

_Bye, bye, Miss American Pie_

_Drove my Chevy to the levee_

_But the levee was dry_

_Them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye_

_The day the music died._

The words had flowed seamlessly from her mouth as if that part had been assigned to Zoey all along. She knew she was singing—she felt her father’s death weighing down her heart, and she heard herself quaver out the few short lines. But Zoey wasn’t just overcome by the heart song and continuing it of her own volition; it was like her glitch, coming out of her all on its own. And when Zoey asked her family about her fleeting performance later, they were as oblivious as she was. 

“David, did I… sing? Just now?” Zoey had approached her brother moments later in the kitchen after Emily had gone upstairs to lie down and Maggie had remained glued to the couch.

“Zoey, what?” David chuckled in tired bewilderment. “I haven’t heard you sing in, what, twenty years? I even make a habit of trying to tune you out during ‘Happy Birthday.’” He quipped halfheartedly, swirling around the white wine in his half-empty glass.

Zoey wasn’t about to disturb her mother or risk upsetting Emily, so she had shrugged off the thought and gone on with her grieving process. It was only now, six weeks later, as she prepared to return to SPRQ Point for the first time since… well, you know… that Zoey’s mini-heart song had come back to mind.

_And we’ll rise up_

_And we’ll do it a thousand times_

_Agaaaaaiiiiiiin_

Zoey heard Mo finish the chorus with an impressive vocal run and buried her head deeper in her pillow.

“I hope you aren’t seriously considering staying in bed, Zo-ldilocks.” Mo scolded her, his head peering directly over hers. 

“I don’t know if I can do this, Mo.” Zoey sighed, finally sitting up in her bed but still pulling all her blankets around her in a comforting cocoon. 

“Of course you can. Come on girl, get up!” Mo ordered her in a voice that was far too chipper.

After greeting baby Miles with a kiss on the forehead and hesitantly saying goodbye to her family and her parents’ home—Zoey’s safe haven for the past month-and-a-half—Zoey followed Mo outside.

“So. It’s your first day back. How are we feeling?” Mo asked.

“Kind of… empty? I guess?” Zoey sighed. “I just guess I _miss_ hearing heart songs.”

“Zoey Clarke, are you starting to appreciate the power of music?” Mo accused her meaningfully.

Zoey rolled her eyes. “ _No_. You know I’d rather listen to Analog Dialogue than Top 40 hits. It’s just… the heart songs were actually _helping_ me process everything that was going on with my dad, and now that _he’s_ gone they’re gone when I need them the most.”

“How do you know they’re actually gone? You haven’t set foot outside that house in _weeks_.”

“Sure, but emotions have been running high in the Clarke residence. Yesterday I caught my mom drinking a chocolate milkshake in the kitchen and crying for like, half an hour.”

“Maybe your mind is just waiting for a _certain_ type of heart song from a _certain someone_.” 

_“Mo!”_ Zoey said a little too loudly. “Look, I know what you’re trying to do. I’m not going to talk to them.”

Mo sighed exasperatedly. “Zoey, Max and Simon have been going to incredible lengths to reach out and offer you support, and when you made it clear that you didn’t want that, they gave you space. I think they alternate dropping off food for your mom. Max does Mondays and Wednesdays, and Simon does Tuesdays and Thursdays. Or was it Tuesdays and Fridays? Anyway, they-”

Zoey stopped walking, crossing her arms. “I haven’t _talked_ to either of them because that would mean unpacking everything that happened and probably hurting one or both of them.”

“Do you want to hear my opinion?” Mo asked then stifled a laugh. “No. Wait. I take that back. Even if you did want to hear it, I’m sure you’d find a way to avoid the inevitable anyway.”

Zoey’s eyes shot daggers at Mo. “Oh, come _on_ . I’m not _that_ close-minded. Shoot.”

“Okay. Here’s what I think. Max and Simon both obviously care about you very, very much, and I’m sure that they would both be lovely partners in some respect. But only Max knows about your power, and you know, before that night, you were about to-”

“But _nothing happened_ , Mo. We kissed, sure, we had a moment. What can I say, confidence is attractive! Sue me!”

“I can’t spell out the obvious for you, Zoey. You’ll have to do that yourself.”

Zoey shrugged off Mo’s comment, but she couldn’t completely banish from her mind the thoughts of her and Max’s kiss that night. After they had made it across the scorching desert that was that horrible fourth-sixth-floor drama and she _finally_ had her best friend back, one of the first things she did was kiss him. It was like she had been hell-bent on her own self-destruction. When Max had sat there, talking about his ambition, talking about the _future_ , all she could picture was one where she and Max were never apart. 

But that couldn’t happen. Not now, not after everything she had been through in the aftermath of Mitch’s death. It was too much of a risk, too much of a leap of faith to jump into Max’s arms when she could lose him forever. And she _needed_ him.


	2. Too Much Too Fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoey finally returns to SPRQ Point after her leave of absence and immediately regrets everything.

When Zoey finally stopped outside the towering SPRQ Point building and looked up at the fourth floor in anticipation, she decided she couldn’t do it. Today wasn’t the right time for her to go back to work—it would have to wait. As she turned around to make her escape, Zoey caught sight of a familiar face and cursed under her breath.

“Zoey! You’re back.” Simon jogged up to her, smiling brightly. His smile fell when he noticed Zoey’s uncomfortable expression. “Are you… okay?”

Zoey shook off the feeling of shock at seeing Simon for the first time in weeks. She noticed that his beard had grown a bit longer, and somehow it looked like his eyes were a bit happier than they had been when she had first met him.

“Yeah! I mean… no. Not really. But not because of you. Because of my dad’s. Death.” Zoey rattled off quickly, feeling her heartbeat quicken. 

“Can I walk you in? I mean, we’re headed to the same place anyway.” Simon joked.

“For sure!” Zoey said, a little _too_ excitedly, though she had wanted to say the exact opposite. Simon held open the large glass door for her and walked with Zoey until they reached the elevator doors. Soon Zoey found herself inside with Simon, alone.

“I know you must have a million different thoughts going through your head right now, and I just want to say… I know. And I know it’s a process, and it _sucks_ at first. You saw that firsthand.” He joked self-deprecatingly. “But I just want you to know, there is light at the end of that long, dark tunnel.”

Zoey looked up at Simon. “Oh?”

“I think I’m able to look back on memories with my dad with… joy, now. It used to just be regret, and anger, and frustration, but,” Simon gestured to his heart, “I still have him in _here_ , and knowing that has been my saving grace.”

“That’s… amazing, Simon. Really.” Zoey smiled genuinely, though less widely than she might have if her father had not just died. She was happy for Simon, really, especially since she had gotten to know him while he was in such a bad place. However, the all-consuming force of her own grief and the knowledge that she was still at the beginning of that dark tunnel put a damper on her feelings of joy quite a bit.

“Hey, I’m here for you, if you ever want to talk.” 

Right as the elevator _dinged_ at their arrival on the fourth floor and Simon headed off to his office, Zoey’s thoughts lingered on Simon’s new air of happiness, of being at peace. It reminded her of the deep emotional connection she had shared with him while they were both deep in their grief—a connection she hadn’t really found in anyone else. With Simon, it was so _easy_ . There wasn’t anything to worry about ruining, no deep, long history that haunted her at night. Just two people who understood each other. Unlike with—Zoey shook the thought out of her head. _With Simon it was easy_.

Tobin ambushed Zoey when she finally reached her desk— _which was, bizarrely, a standing desk now?_ —while Leif watched from afar.

“She’s back, people!” Tobin announced to the office, with a few coders lifting their eyes up to Zoey briefly before returning to their work. “‘Sup, Zo? You’re glowing! You are so strong.” His tone rapidly changed from upbeat to serious in the last sentence.

“Tobin!” Leif chastised him from afar. “Remember what we talked about!” Tobin smiled awkwardly at Zoey and returned to his workspace.

“What did _we_ talk about, Leif?” Zoey said as she approached his desk.

“Just that Tobin should give you some _space_ on your first day back.” Leif smiled… was that empathy, or just another thinly veiled attempt at career advancement? “As manager, I’m just keeping the team in line.” Zoey caught a glimpse of Tobin over her shoulder, who looked particularly downtrodden at being lumped in with the rest of “the team.”

“ _Manager_?”

“ _Acting_ manager. In your absence, of course. But I was hoping that we could discuss—” Zoey walked away before he could finish his sentence.

“Zoey? Can you come in here, please?” Zoey turned around to see Joan gesturing towards her office. 

“Sorry I didn’t call ahead and tell you I’d be coming in today, Joan. It’s just with everything at home, it completely slipped my mind—”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. You’re fine, Zoey. There’s just something I wanted to talk to you about.” Joan gestured at the chair in front of her desk, and Zoey took a seat.

“Okay. Long story short, I’m going to be moving to Singapore in a week to take over the entire Asian division of SPRQ Point. Danny Michael Davis is in house arrest now because they found a USB in his sister’s basement or something…” Joan sighed and looked directly at Zoey. “I want _you_ to become Executive Director of the fourth floor when I leave.”

Zoey sat on the uncomfortable chair in shock. It was her first day back and she was being offered a _promotion_? This was too much to handle.

“Wow. Joan, that is… incredible.” Zoey said, though from her tone of voice it would seem that she thought the exact opposite. “I’m just very overwhelmed right now and I need to go take a moment and just be by myself and process all of this okay bye!” Zoey said as she rose from her chair and hightailed it out of Joan’s office. 

_Leif was trying to steal her job from her… Joan was offering her an entirely different job…_ It was all too much. Zoey steeled herself as she walked into Simon’s office.

“Zoey.” Simon looked up at her and smiled as she stood just inside the door.

“Look, um, can we talk later? My place?” Zoey said desperately, plastering a smile onto her face.

“Y-yes. Of course. Later.” Simon stammered. Having accomplished what she had set out to do, Zoey rushed out of Simon’s office towards the meditation room. She sank down onto one of the cushions and stayed there until everyone headed home for the night.

✷ ✷ ✷

Zoey had guessed that Joan and the rest of the fourth floor had decided to give her her space after she disappeared so soon that morning. She appreciated it; all she had wanted to do at that moment was to curl herself up into a ball and withdraw from the outside world, which was exactly what she did for the next several hours. When the coast was finally clear and the rest of her coworkers had departed, Zoey drove back to her apartment for the first time in a month and a half.

She had resolved on staying there for the night—maybe not every day that week, all at once, but she wanted to transition back into normalcy, little by little. Zoey opened the door to find everything as she had left it, silently thanking Mo for keeping his word and keeping everybody out. Zoey poured herself a glass of wine from a half-opened bottle that was still in her fridge and sat on the couch, waiting for Simon to arrive at her door. She had made up her mind; she was going to give him a chance. After all, the man had left his _fiancée_ for her. Or was it _because_ of her? Zoey wasn’t entirely sure, but she did know that he was a single man now.

While she waited for that knock on her door, Zoey thought once more over the events of the day. Or, rather, the _non-events_ of the day. Even after all of the very, _very_ complicated occurrences at SPRQ Point that day, Zoey _still_ hadn’t heard a heart song. Maybe that was a sign from the universe that she was going to have to help herself out now—no more hints.

Zoey heard two quick taps on her door and jerked herself back into reality, carefully setting her wine glass on the coffee table and checking her reflection in the mirror. After fidgeting with her curls for a few brief moments, she steadied herself and made a beeline for the door.

When she finally swung the door open, Zoey was taken aback by the person she saw on the other side.

_“Max?”_


	3. The Power of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, maybe Zoey’s powers aren’t gone after all…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are from “Yellow” by Coldplay.

Zoey was shocked to see her best friend at the door. Sure, he had grown a bit of facial hair since she had last seen him, but she’d recognize those kind brown eyes anywhere.

“Hey, Zo.” Max said softly, looking at her with a warm smile.

Zoey stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind her. “I… wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

“Mo texted me that it was your first day back at work, and I just wanted to stop by and see if it was true that the elusive Zoey Clarke was finally venturing out into the streets of San Francisco again.” Max quipped, and Zoey smiled in spite of herself. “And I brought you this. With _extra_ soy sauce.”

He handed her a bag of takeout from the Japanese place by SPRQ Point that they frequented whenever they got tired of the Thai place across the street. Zoey caught the faint smell of pork gyoza and gaped at Max.

“My favorite!” She accepted the bag gratefully, remembering then that she hadn’t eaten all day while she was hiding out in the meditation room. “Thanks, Max.”

“Hey, it’s the least I could do. So, how was the first day back?”

Zoey sighed loudly.

“That bad, huh?”

“Leif is out to get me, Tobin has _no_ sense of boundaries, and Joan is moving to _Singapore_ and wants me to take over the entire fourth floor!” Zoey aired her list of grievances. 

Max’s eyes widened. “A lot to unpack there.” He took a deep breath. “Look, Zo, I don’t want to take up too much of your time. I know it must have been incredibly overwhelming just trying to get through the day, and I don’t want to add to that. But you know I’m here for you, whenever you need me.” 

Zoey beamed at him. “ _Thank you_ , Max. For just… being you.” She gulped when she saw the look in his eyes, one so full of acceptance and attentiveness and _love_ that she had to resist the urge to throw her arms around him right that second.

“Of course,” Max said softly, smiling at her one more time before he turned to leave.

Suddenly Zoey could not bear to watch him walk away. _“Wait!”_

Right as she uttered that single word, Zoey heard the strum of a guitar that was most definitely _not_ coming from Mo’s apartment. Max turned around and leaned against the wall, staring right at her. And then he started to _sing_.

_Look at the stars_

_Look how they shine for you_

_And everything you do_

_Yeah, they were all yellow_

Zoey’s eyes widened at the sound of Max’s singing voice, something she had not heard since that night six weeks ago. She watched as he paced to the other side of the hallway dramatically, hands behind his back.

_I came along_

_I wrote a song for you_

_And all the things you do_

_And it was called "Yellow"_

_So, then, I took my turn_

_What a thing to've done_

_And it was all yellow_

Zoey’s heart was pounding out of her chest with every word he sang. The song wasn’t accompanied by a complicated dance routine or anything; it was as if she and Max were the only two people in the world, and he was staring directly into her soul.

_Your skin_

_Oh, yeah, your skin and bones_

_Turn into something beautiful_

_And you know_

_You know I love you so_

_You know I love you so_

Zoey gasped at the last few lines he sang. She hadn’t heard Max sing that word—the “L” word—to her in a few months, but it sent the same shivers up her spine that it had the very first time.

_I swam across_

_I jumped across for you_

_Oh, what a thing to do_

_'Cause you were all yellow_

_I drew a line_

_I drew a line for you_

_Oh, what a thing to do_

_And it was all yellow_

_And your skin_

_Oh, yeah, your skin and bones_

_Turn into something beautiful_

_And you know_

_For you, I'd bleed myself dry_

_For you, I'd bleed myself dry_

_It's true_

_Look how they shine for you_

_Look how they shine for you_

_Look how they shine for_

_Look how they shine for you_

_Look how they shine for you_

_Look how they shine_

_Look at the stars_

_Look how they shine for you_

_And all the things that you do_

Zoey had stood there mesmerized as she had watched Max sing the rest of the song. After the music finally receded, her breath hitched in the back of her throat. A heart song—the _first_ heart song she had heard in weeks. Max had sung her another love song, this one perhaps the most genuine and pure of them all. 

Max looked at her with concern. “Zo, are you okay? I didn’t… _sing_ to you, did I?”

Zoey shook her head urgently, almost even convincing herself. “No, I just… I was thinking about my dad.” Zoey nodded, her expression blank. “I kind of got lost in my thoughts there, that’s all.” 

“Oh. Okay.” Max smiled sadly. 

“Max, I-” Zoey gulped audibly. “Thank you for coming by, but I just need to be alone right now.”

Max nodded solemnly and reached out as if to rub Zoey’s shoulder, but thought better of it and gave her her space. He stuffed his hands in his coat pockets awkwardly and smiled at Zoey with pained eyes before descending the stairs out of her apartment building. Zoey watched him yearningly as he walked away, knowing that she was hurting herself just as much as she was hurting him.


	4. A Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After hearing Max sing to her, Zoey panics to Mo (as usual). However, when she finally decides what to do, will she immediately regret it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from “Purple Rain” by Prince.

Zoey stood rooted to the spot she had been when Max had sung to her just moments before. Her mind was racing with thoughts, but the one that stood out to her was the way she had wanted to throw everything away for Max when he had started singing to her. Instead, she had thrown him out of the building. Zoey did the only rational thing she could think of at that moment: she knocked on Mo’s door.

He opened it within seconds, almost as if he had had his ear against the door the entire time. “Zoey. _Hey!”_ He called after her as Zoey marched into the apartment and started pacing around.

“Max just stopped by,” Zoey said as if that statement alone warranted no other explanation.

“So?” Mo asked, a noticeable twinkle in his eyes. 

“So, he _sang_ to me.” Zoey blurted out.

“Oh, great! Your powers are back! What songs did you hear the rest of the day?”

 _“Mo!”_ Zoey rebuked him. “Max’s song… was the first one I’ve heard since my dad’s death.” From the impish grin on Mo’s face, Zoey regretted that revelation right as she said it.

“So _Max_ brought your powers back from the dead, huh? What did he sing?” Mo asked as if he was prepared to pull out a bowl of popcorn.

“I think it might be called… ‘Yellow?’ Do you know that song?”

In place of the usual derisive smirk and sarcastic comment at Zoey’s expense whenever she didn’t know the name of a heart song, Mo’s eyes widened.

“What?” Zoey said.

“Zoey, I know that you’re musically… _challenged_ … but unless you lack common sense—please stop me from continuing if you do—then you heard how powerful of a love song that is. If Eddie sang me that song, I’d marry him on the _spot!”_

Zoey bit her lip. Despite her best efforts to act clueless about what that song meant to her— _for_ her and Max—she couldn’t stop picturing his expression as he had sung to her, pure and sweet and completely and utterly _in love_.

“Why aren’t you in your apartment with that boy right now, telling him how you really feel?”

“How I really _feel?”_

“Come on, Zoey, your cheeks are so red I ought to call the fire department! You may be a mind reader, but _I’m_ a rational human being who isn’t _stupid.”_

 _“I told him to leave!”_ Zoey burst out, feeling the sudden rush of tears to her eyes. “I lied to him when he asked if he had sung to me and I said I needed to be alone. I can’t _do_ this, Mo, not so soon. My dad was my whole world, and sometimes I still wake up and have to remind myself that he isn’t _here_ anymore. After everything I’ve been through, I can’t even think about trying it out with Max. If I lose him too, I won’t be able to go on.”

As Mo prepared a retort, he was interrupted by the _ding_ of a text from Zoey’s phone. She glanced at the screen and saw the message she had been waiting for.

  
  


**6:07 PM** Simon Haynes

Hey

Leaving now, I’ll be at your place in around 15 minutes.

  
  


“I have to go. Simon’s coming over,” Zoey said resolutely, turning on her heel and heading towards the door.

“I know you’re in pain, Zoey, and I won’t dare try to minimize that. But if you keep running away like this, you’re going to lose him anyway. And maybe not just _him.”_ Mo said harshly, but Zoey refused to listen. She flung open Mo’s door and slammed it on her way out.

✷ ✷ ✷

It had been just under a month since she had started dating Simon, and Zoey felt like she might finally be happy again. 

Being with him was _easy_. It was everything she had wanted—no years of history, no L-word, no promises of forever. Just her and Simon, enjoying each other’s company in the moment.

Zoey had found herself spending more and more time with Simon, mostly at her apartment or his, just talking and _being there._ Conversely, she found herself seeing less and less of Max and Mo, despite Mo’s best efforts. Zoey knew that they _should_ be mad at her—she wouldn’t blame them—but it was she who had distanced herself from them. She had started that the day after Max had sung to her, inviting him over briefly just so she could break the news. Even though she had been becoming a pro at avoidance, she had found enough tact within herself to tell him in person.

“Max, I need to tell you… I’m going to give it a shot with Simon.” Zoey had said, biting her lip. Max looked _crushed_ , but he stiffened his shoulders and turned the corners of his mouth up ever so slightly.

For a few seconds, they stood in complete silence, Max avoiding her attempts at eye contact. He turned his back to her, moving towards the door, and the words escaped Zoey’s mouth before she could restrain herself:

“This doesn’t mean… Max.” Zoey called after him desperately, and he met her eyes once more, his brow furrowed just noticeably. “Whatever we are, it isn’t over. I need you in my life, I just—not like this, not now.” 

Max blinked his eyes a few times too many as he steadied himself with a deep breath, and Zoey wondered if she had seen the hint of a tear escaping his left eye. “Zoey, you know I want you to be happy. I’ll always want you to be happy.” Max took one step closer to her, his voice quiet and choked up. “But I can’t do this— _us_ —right now. We should just… keep our distance for now.”

Zoey chewed her top lip and nodded several times, staying silent. That had been all she could muster as he walked out the door, and right then she had felt the weight of the entire world fall suddenly upon her shoulders.

But that had been a month ago, and since then, she had seen Max a few times. Occasionally, Zoey showed up at Mo’s place, trying to maintain what was left of their friendship. She had gotten used to seeing Max and Mo hanging out as they worked on their new business venture, which Zoey hadn’t had the heart to ask about in detail. Max was probably closer to Mo at this point than he was to Zoey.

Today was one of those days when Zoey decided to stop by Apartment 4, especially since she had heard Max arrive a few minutes earlier. After telling him about Simon, she hadn’t been able to hang out with Max alone like she would have before everything changed. But even though Zoey knew that Mo was still mad at her for ignoring every single piece of advice he had ever given her, he still let her hang out with the two of them.

Max had started giving Zoey the cold shoulder whenever she saw him, and she didn’t blame him. Sure, he would answer her “heys” with a polite _“hello”_ every once in a while, and he would still hold the door for her and whatnot, but when she would crack the same jokes that used to make him laugh, he wouldn’t. Soon, Zoey stopped trying. It was painfully awkward, but it was the only way Zoey could continue to be close to Max now that he didn’t work at SPRQ Point or want to be anywhere near her at any given time.

After Mo opened the door and let Zoey in, wearing the same tired expression he had developed while around her in the past few weeks, Zoey caught a glimpse of Max sitting on the couch, his hands clasped in front of him.

“Hey, Zoey…” Max said hesitantly as he saw her walk into the apartment. “We’re, um, about to order some food if you want to get in on that. Japanese.” 

Zoey slowly walked into the living room and offered Max a small smile, which he did not immediately return. “Thanks,” she replied, remembering the last time she had eaten Japanese food a month ago.

“Zoey, come in here so I can get your order!” Mo called from the kitchen. Zoey shrugged awkwardly at Max as she obeyed Mo’s order, knowing that both of them knew she _never_ changed her order.

When Zoey walked into the small kitchen, she saw Mo with his cell phone in hand, almost wondering if he _did_ just need her to repeat her order and didn’t actually have an ulterior motive for calling her into the room.

“You can’t keep torturing the boy like this, Zostradamus.” Mo lectured her, dialing the number for the Japanese place as they talked. Of course, like always, he _did_ have an ulterior motive. “I know you can hear when Max shows up at my apartment through those thin walls of yours.”

“I _know_ , Mo, but he wants nothing to do with me. This is the only way he’ll even agree to be in the same room as me.” 

“Yes, hello? One order of gyoza, three California rolls, and could I get that last one without any wasabi? Okay. Yep. Thank you!” Mo hung up the phone and redirected his glare at Zoey. “Max made it very clear to you when you told him about Simon that he needed space. And here you are, giving him anything but that! You need to make up your mind, Zoey.”

Zoey scoffed, taken aback by that last remark. “I… I _have_ made up my mind! I’m with Simon, Mo.”

“Then why do you keep coming over to my apartment so you can spend time with _Max?”_ Mo shook his head in frustration and grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter. Zoey followed him back into the living area as he threw a coat on.

“I’m going to go get the food. Just don’t kill each other or set anything on fire while I’m gone, ‘kay?” Mo smiled contemptuously at Zoey and Max before opening his apartment door.

“Mo, wait, I can get it!” Max called out and stood up from the couch.

“No, you _can’t!”_ Mo replied and slammed the apartment door closed behind him.

Zoey looked at the red door in disbelief that Mo would leave her alone with Max, who definitely wanted nothing to do with her. She glanced over at him on the couch, his back slumped more deeply into the cushion than before and arms crossed in front of him like he was waiting to get into a dentist’s chair for root canal surgery. 

“So…?” Zoey raised her eyebrows awkwardly and chuckled nervously.

“So,” Max replied curtly, still avoiding her eyes. 

Zoey took a seat on the armchair near the couch, close enough to Max that she could make out the wrinkles in his forehead as his brow scrunched together, framing his piercing brown eyes. 

“We don’t have to talk, Max, if you really don’t want to. But if you do,” Zoey half-smiled hopefully, “I’ll listen.”

Max exhaled meaningfully and finally lifted his eyes to meet hers. “How’s it going with Simon?”

Zoey was almost taken aback by the question and its implications—was he looking for some kind of assurance from her? That she and Simon were just something ephemeral, and that she was secretly pining after Max? After studying his expression, however, Zoey found a face free of tension, the furrow in his brow nowhere to be found, and the same caring, understanding eyes she had always known. He really just wanted to know how _she_ was.

Zoey nodded rapidly, thinking to herself that she might be overdoing it. “Yup. Good. He’s—we’re good, I mean. Lots of talking and hanging out and whatnot, you know what I mean.”

Max smiled halfheartedly, and Zoey cringed to herself. He _did_ know what she meant because before she had decided to spend the majority of her time with Simon, it was Max who had done all the talking and hanging out and whatnot with her.

Zoey steadied herself, determined to make everything okay all at once. “I’m happy, Max, really. It’s been less than three months since my father… And, you know, Simon is helping me through it. Talking through all the grief and helping me process. All the time.” Zoey added, almost annoyed at herself. It was true, Simon had been helping her with her grief. In fact, he had been helping her so much that they barely spent any time talking about anything else. Even after all this time, she felt like she only knew one side of him, really. Zoey shook off the thought as instantly as it had entered her mind.

Even in spite of Zoey’s own doubts, Max smiled. “Good. I’m glad to hear that.” He pushed the sleeves of his shirt higher up on his forearms and clasped his hands in front of him. “You know, Zo, even as difficult as it has been to get back to the place we used to be in our friendship, I do appreciate you hanging out with Mo and me every once in a while.”

 _“What?_ I thought you were totally annoyed by my lame attempts at extending the olive branch,” Zoey laughed genuinely. She had really thought Max was at his wit’s end with her, but it was comforting to know that he was not.

“Of course not.” He smiled. “You know that—”

His sentence abruptly turned into song, and Zoey was taken aback.

_I never meant to cause you any sorrow_

_I never meant to cause you any pain_

_I only wanted one time to see you laughing_

_I only wanted to see you_

_Laughing in the purple rain_

A feeling she hadn’t felt since the last time Max had sung to her flooded into Zoey’s chest. She felt her eyes burn with tears as the lyrics set in. How could Max think she had distanced herself from him because he had caused her pain when it was _entirely the opposite_?

_Purple rain, purple rain_

_Purple rain, purple rain_

_Purple rain, purple rain_

_I only want to see you_

_Bathing in the purple rain_

_I never wanted to be your weekend lover_

_I only wanted to be some kind of friend, hey_

_Baby, I could never steal you from another_

_It's such a shame our friendship had to end_

This song, whatever it was, was destroying Zoey from the inside out. That last line about their friendship ending hurt the most, even though she knew that it was only her fault that that had happened.

_Honey, I know, I know_

_I know times are changing_

_It's time we all reach out_

_For something new, that means you too_

_You say you want a leader_

_But you can't seem to make up your mind_

Zoey cursed at the heart song gods for the last line, which made Zoey wonder if Mo had any hand in picking which songs people sang to her. He would probably applaud Max for his flawless song choice. Suddenly, the instrumental stopped, and Zoey’s eyes snapped back to Max’s.

“Come on, Zo. I could never _really_ be annoyed with you.” Max grinned impishly, and though Zoey saw flashes of the man she had met at SPRQ Point orientation before her on Mo’s couch, she also saw him more guarded than he had ever been.

“I’m _back!”_ Mo said singsongingly as he walked back into his apartment with bags of takeout in tow. Upon seeing Zoey’s and Max’s intense stares at each other, he raised his eyebrows. “Well. I’ll just take this to the kitchen.”

Max cleared his throat as he stood up from the couch. “Ahem. Let’s eat.”

Zoey sat at one end of the long dining table while Max sat at the other, with Mo begrudgingly sitting between them on one of the longer sides. As they picked their food out of the bags, Max wordlessly tossed his soy sauce packets to Zoey across the table.

“Oh, Max, you don’t have to—”

“Come, on. It’s tradition,” Max said, managing a smile. Zoey saw Mo glance from one end of the table to the other with a pointed expression on his face and accepted the packets.

They ate and talked for twenty minutes or so, Zoey marveling at Max and Mo’s impressive communication about their new business. She could already tell that it was going to be successful from the way they talked about it, and Zoey couldn’t be happier for them. After finishing her sushi, Zoey took the leftover soy sauce packets and dropped them into her pocket for later.

“I’d… better get going. Simon’s coming over later.” Zoey said apologetically, Max’s slightly hurt expression not going unnoticed.

Max nodded at Zoey and Mo ushered her to the door. “So, what did y’all talk about while I was gone?”

Zoey frowned slightly. “I’ll tell you later, okay?” She wrapped her arms around Mo in a warm hug and was surprised when he tightened the embrace. “Thank you.”

Mo didn’t have to ask what she meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 should be out in the next few days! This is a Clarkeman endgame fic, but the next 1-2 chapters will wrap up the whole Simon not knowing about Zoey's powers storyline (which I'm still anxious to see in the show!)


	5. Day of Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoey is forced to confront the reality that she still hasn’t told Simon about her powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics in this chapter are from “Getaway Car” by Taylor Swift.

After closing the door to her apartment behind her, Zoey walked briskly over to her couch and sunk down into the rightmost cushion. Her heart still fluttered from the song Max had sung her, which was as much one of love as it was of regret and sorrow. Zoey shook her head as if to exterminate the thought from her brain completely, but it still lingered. She drew the soy sauce packets from her pocket where she had placed them for safekeeping and absentmindedly placed them on the coffee table.

Before Zoey could even pretend to accidentally let her thoughts drift to Max once more, she heard three sharp knocks at the door. Simon had arrived.

Zoey jumped from her seat and ran to open the door, flipping her head down in an effort to give her hair some last-minute volume. She greeted Simon with a quick kiss and grabbed his hand before leading him to the couch.

“How’s your mom doing?” Zoey asked him, propping her elbow up on the couch cushion and leaning her hand on it.

“She’s doing well! Yeah, her and Dennis just got back from London a few days ago. Sounds like they had a nice time,” Simon smiled. Zoey appreciated how far Simon had come since going to his mom’s wedding. His heart songs of late had been less “Mad World” and more “Here Comes The Sun.” She wondered to herself how she would react if _(when?)_ her mother started dating again—probably not as accepting as Simon.

Zoey and Simon drifted into one of their familiar conversations about childhood memories with their fathers. After a half hour or so of trading stories about trips with Mitch to the San Francisco Botanical Garden—where he would tell Zoey and David about how he would redesign the place if given the chance—and college football games with Simon’s dad, Zoey suggested they watch a movie.

While she went off to pour them both glasses of wine from the one bottle she had in her fridge, Zoey let Simon rifle through the short pile of movies on her coffee table (back when movie nights with Max were still on, he’d usually provide the films).

“Zoey, why do you have soy sauce packets on your coffee table?” Simon chuckled in amusement.

“Oh! I got sushi earlier today with Mo and Max,” Zoey explained quickly. “Max always gives me his soy sauce.” Zoey grinned and shook her head derisively as she brought the wine glasses over and set them down on the coffee table.

“I didn’t know you were such a soy sauce aficionado,” Simon pointed at his wine glass. “How can I be sure this _is in fact_ red wine and not soy sauce?”

Zoey shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to trust me.”

Simon took a cautious sip from the glass. “Yup. It’s wine. Close call.”

Zoey giggled and looked up from her wine glass into Simon’s eyes. Almost instinctively, they both set their wine glasses down on the table without breaking eye contact. Simon leaned in slowly, kissing her as he cupped her cheek with his hand. Zoey melted into the kiss—Simon was an _amazing_ kisser, which made her feel less guilty about always stopping things from going any further—but she felt him hesitate even as their kiss deepened.

Zoey pulled away slowly, her hand underneath Simon’s chin. “Simon? Are you okay?” But as she heard the pulsing instrumental begin, Zoey knew her question had been answered.

Simon pulled away and stood from the couch, pacing away from her with his hands in his hair. Before Zoey could even think about asking him what was wrong, Simon turned to face her and started singing quietly.

_It was the best of times, the worst of crimes_

_I struck a match and blew your mind_

_But I didn't mean it_

_And you didn't see it_

_The ties were black, the lies were white_

_In shades of gray in candlelight_

_I wanted to leave her_

_I needed a reason_

Zoey sat rooted to her spot on the couch, mulling over these first few lyrics in her mind. They didn’t sound too happy, and Simon’s pained expression as he sang agreed with her.

_"X" marks the spot where we fell apart_

_She poisoned the well, I was lyin' to myself_

_I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed_

_We never had a shotgun shot in the dark_

Cursed? That didn’t sound too good.

_You were drivin' the getaway car_

_We were flyin', but we'd never get far_

_Don't pretend it's such a mystery_

_Think about the place where you first met me_

_Ridin' in a getaway car_

_There were sirens in the beat of your heart_

_Should've known I'd be the first to leave_

_Think about the place where you first met me_

_In a getaway car, oh-oh-oh_

_No, they never get far, oh-oh-ahh_

_No, nothing good starts in a getaway car_

As abruptly as the song had started, it was over, and Simon leaned in as if to kiss her again.

Zoey’s forehead wrinkled as she considered the lyrics of the song Simon had just sung to her. They had met… in a getaway car? They were criminals? She had no idea what it all meant, and she _needed_ to get out of there.

“Um, I, uh, have to get over to Mo’s real quick.” Zoey pulled away at the last second and chuckled nervously. “I lent him a… bottle of wine earlier today. Just gonna… go get that back.” Zoey stood from the couch and flew out her front door in a matter of seconds. She pounded her fist on Mo’s door and waited.

“A bottle of wine, Zoey? You were _just_ drinking wine with him a minute ago!” Zoey whispered to herself furiously.

Mo opened his door just a crack. “Max left a while ago,” he said teasingly. At the sight of Zoey’s panicked expression, he rolled his eyes before gesturing grandly for her to come inside. She walked in and started pacing around his dining room table, her heart beating out of her chest.

“How can I help you, Zoey?” Mo asked boredly, though Zoey knew when she mentioned the heart song his attitude would change.

“Simon just sang a heart song to me. And I’ve never heard it before, and I don’t know what any of it means, and I just…” 

“What song?” Mo sat at the table, pulling out his phone and opening it to the notes app in preparation. Zoey had noticed him taking meticulous notes on every song she had heard, and the scientist in her was even a little proud of him.

“Okay, I think it might have been something about a getaway car?” Zoey asked, hoping Mo would have the answer as usual.

Mo’s eyes widened. “I don’t know if you’re going to like this, Zoloft.” 

“You know which song I’m talking about?” Zoey exclaimed, and Mo looked offended. “Sorry, I know, I know, my music knowledge pales in comparison to yours.”

 _“That_ is an understatement.” Mo gave Zoey a smug smirk before returning to a somber expression. “The song is called ‘Getaway Car,’ Zoey. It’s by Taylor Swift. And if that’s what Simon was singing, I don’t think he’s as into your relationship as you think he is.”

Zoey’s mind started racing as she sunk into one of the other chairs at Mo’s table. “W-what do you mean?”

Mo sighed with boredom and clasped his hands in front of him on the table. “Okay, time for a brief history of Taylor Swift.”

While Mo explained the intricacies of Taylor Swift’s relationships with Calvin Harris and Tom Hiddleston, Zoey felt her mind slowly shutting down. She was _far_ better at understanding a complex line of code than she was a bunch of pop-culture drama.

 _“You’re_ Tom Hiddleston, Zoey. Simon is Taylor and Jessica is Calvin Harris,” Mo finished, as if that made perfect sense all on its own.

“And that’s bad?”

Mo sighed. “‘Getaway Car’ is about how Taylor needed _so badly_ to get away from her relationship with Calvin Harris that she threw herself into this whole other relationship with Tom Hiddleston. AKA, they were doomed from the start. AK _AKA,_ Simon secretly thinks of his relationship with _you_ the same way.”

Zoey sat there in silence. Could it be true? Was Simon just using her to get away from his flawed relationship with Jessica? _Could that have been why he had been so emotionally vulnerable with her while he was still engaged?_

“I just… I don’t even know what to do about this.” Zoey shook her head rapidly. “I mean, I can’t just keep dating him like nothing is wrong when something is _very obviously wrong!”_

“You know what you _can do?”_ Mo said imploringly. “You can finally pluck up the courage to tell Simon about your power.”

“No! No, there’s no way… There _has_ to be something else—”

“That’s _it,_ Zoey.” Mo abruptly cut her off, pointing his finger accusingly at her. “You’ve been officially dating Simon for almost a month and you _still_ haven’t told him about your power!” 

“I want to, Mo, I just.” Zoey sighed shakily. “If— _when_ I tell him about my power, that means I have to tell him about ‘Mad World,’ and then that means—” Zoey started breathing rapidly, her mind racing. When she had first started talking to Simon all those months ago, getting closer to him, then bonding over their grief, she had invaded a huge part of his privacy. She could only imagine how Simon would react when he found out that Zoey was, in fact, a mind reader, as he had joked with her so many times.

Mo pressed his fingers to his temples and sat silently. Zoey could tell he was upset with her for the infinite time, and she wondered when would be the last. Mo had always given her such _good_ advice, had put up with her anxieties and overthinking and emotional avoidance, and yet Zoey had ignored him time and again. The most baffling part of it all was that Mo _kept letting her come back._ He was a true friend, and Zoey knew she didn’t deserve him.

“No, you’re right,” Zoey said determinedly. “I’ve been running away from this for so long, but I’m not going to run anymore. I’m going to tell Simon about my power.”

Mo looked taken aback. “Zoey Clarke! I would say I’m impressed, but this _is_ the bare minimum,” Mo said in mock surprise but then smiled. “I know this is hard for you, but you’re doing the right thing.”

Zoey nodded sincerely. “Thanks, Mo. For everything.”

✷ ✷ ✷

Zoey walked back into her apartment to find Simon on the couch, staring off at the wall and waiting. Waiting for her to return, or waiting for something more? A reckoning? She had heard his song, but she wasn’t sure if he had also been listening to himself.

Simon looked up at her and smiled softly. “Where’s the wine?”

“I realized that we had, in fact, already been drinking wine. Funny how that works.” Zoey laughed choppily.

Zoey steadied herself against the couch cushion, pushing her hands into her seat as deeply as she could. “Look, Simon, I need to ask you something. Please don’t be angry. I’m not, I just need to know.”

“I’m getting nervous.” Simon quipped, still smiling that captivating smile that had drawn her to him all those months ago. But as it had been then, this smile was masking something deeper.

“We haven’t really… talked. About Jessica.” Zoey saw Simon gulp at the mention of her name, his eyes trailing off to the side. She resolved to ask him what she had intended. “Don’t… take this the wrong way.” Zoey bit the inside of her cheek and prepared herself for what she was about to say. The words tumbled out of her without warning:

“IfeellikeyoumightnotbefullypresentinourrelationshipbecauseofhowyourswithJessicaended.”

Simon looked stunned. The crease in between his eyebrows reappeared, and he looked down at his hands as he fidgeted with them in his lap. “You… think I’m still hung up on Jessica?” He looked at Zoey, imploring her for an explanation as if _he himself_ didn’t know the answer.

“Yes? No. I mean, I don’t exactly know. Because we haven’t talked about it.” Zoey added that last part to remind both herself and Simon that she hadn’t been able to read his mind in that particular arena. “I _do_ think it _is_ true that you were engaged to her, for some time. You loved her. And then all that ended, and maybe that was for the best and you needed to get away, but I was there behind the scenes while your engagement fell apart, and now we can’t even have a chance at a relationship.”

Zoey saw Simon’s Adam’s apple moving as he stared down at his hands, avoiding her eyes. Finally, he looked up at her, and she could tell he was holding back tears from the glistening in his eyes. “Zoey, I haven’t so much as _mentioned_ Jessica this entire month, and you come in here telling me that I’m still carrying some deep emotional baggage from that relationship? What in the world gave you that idea?”

Zoey didn’t need to hear a heart song to sense Simon’s pain in that moment, and she knew whatever she said next would only augment it. Still, Mo was right. She owed it both to herself, and Simon, and _them,_ if this relationship even had a shot in the dark, to tell him the truth.

“I HAVE A SUPERPOWER!” Zoey blurted out, and she saw the words hit Simon like shrapnel from a massive explosion.

  
  



	6. Everything At Once

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Zoey’s revelation to Simon about her powers, they talk—and Simon sings—it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics in this chapter are from “I Don’t Believe You” by P!nk, “You Oughta Know” by Alanis Morrissette, “Iris” by Goo Goo Dolls, “The Scientist” by Coldplay, and “Maybe We’re Meant To Be Alone” by Bad Suns.

_I don't believe you_

_When you say, "Don't come around here no more"_

_I won't remind you_

_You said we wouldn't be apart_

_No, I don't believe you_

_When you say you don't need me anymore_

_So don't pretend to_

_Not love me at all_

Simon had risen from his seat and sung the bars of music to Zoey as she watched the pain twist onto his face, a hairline fracture slowly taking root in her heart. Just as soon as the song had started, it had ended, and Simon had returned to the same position on the couch he had been in when she had told him about her power.

“I know it sounds unbelievable, but please, Simon, let me explain. You deserve an explanation.” Zoey choked out, willing herself to stay calm. Simon sat there in silence, and Zoey took that as a cue to continue telling him what she had started.

Zoey steadied herself. “Months ago, right around when you started working at SPRQ Point, I was having some headaches and eye pain, so I went and got an MRI. You know, to see if I could have what my dad had,” She explained, scanning Simon for any change in his expression and coming up empty.

“While I was in the MRI machine, there was an earthquake. And after I left the hospital, while I was walking home, I started hearing them. _Songs_. First, it was a woman singing ‘All By Myself,’ and then there were a few others singing ‘Whatta Man,’ and then basically the entirety of San Francisco sang me ‘Help!’” Zoey paused. “And then, Simon, _you_ sang to me. You sang…” Zoey let out a heavy breath, knowing that this was the moment when she could lose Simon forever. “You sang ‘Mad World’ to me. And the next day… we officially met.”

Realization dawned on Simon’s face. “You… told me about your father. And then I told you about _my_ dad.” 

Zoey nodded grimly. “I heard your pain, and I was in a similar place, so I decided to talk to you. I wanted to… to get closer to you.”

“Did I… sing anything else to you?” Simon asked her, his eyes searching her face for any clues.

“You… did. That night you came over to my apartment before your engagement party, you sang ‘Should I Stay Or Should I Go.’ And I told you-”

“To go.” Simon finished, and he looked more certain in her than ever. “I can’t believe this, Zoey. You’re _telling the truth_.”

Zoey nodded, opening her mouth to explain further before Simon abruptly cut her off. His hands clutching his head in overwhelm, his face twisted in rage, he spewed off: 

_And I'm here, to remind you_

_Of the mess you left when you went away_

_It's not fair, to deny me_

_Of the cross I bear that you gave to me_

_You, you, you oughta know_

Zoey was taken aback by how _angry_ Simon sounded when he was singing to her. She had never heard such raw, unbridled fury through song before that moment.

“You… _used me!_ You heard my deepest, rawest emotions when I was at the _lowest_ point in my life, and you used them to- to get _close_ _to me_?” Simon asked incredulously, his voice raised.

Zoey resisted the urge to say something like _‘No, it’s not like that,’_ but she knew that it was _exactly_ like that. “I’ll admit, Simon, I was attracted to you when we first met, and when I found out you were also grieving, it felt like there was the potential for you to understand me in a way that nobody else could.”

“That’s the thing, Zoey. I was never going to share that part of my life with you before you walked up to me at the Cereal Bar that day and started talking to me about your dad.”

“I couldn’t just leave you alone after hearing you sing like that!” Zoey pleaded with Simon, her eyes filling with tears that threatened to spill over. “You sounded like you were in _so_ much pain. And the thing with these songs… these _heart songs_ that I hear, I’m supposed to help people work through their problems. And if I don’t, the songs just… haunt me. _I_ _just wanted to help you_ , I swear. Everything else that happened... just happened.”

Though his face was still contorted with rage, Zoey saw a few of the creases relax in Simon’s forehead, his expression softening ever-so-slightly. She held her breath in anticipation as _yet another_ instrumental started flowing through the air. As Simon slowly raised his hand up to her cheek, Zoey's heart stopped.

_And I'd give up forever to touch you_

_'Cause I know that you feel me somehow_

_You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be_

_And I don't wanna go home right now_

Zoey was perplexed. This song was such a turnaround from the previous one. Simon’s voice was soft and yearning—still undeniably pained—but caring. 

_And all I can taste is this moment_

_And all I can breathe is your life_

_And sooner or later, it's over_

_I just don't wanna miss you tonight_

He abruptly retracted his hand and distanced himself from Zoey on the couch, his voice brimming with tortured pain and confusion.

_And I don't want the world to see me_

_'Cause I don't think that they'd understand_

_When everything's made to be broken_

_I just want you to know who I am_

Zoey felt one of the tears she had been trying conceal finally fall onto her face. She wiped it away instantly, looking at Simon with complete empathy and understanding. She knew then that when she had talked to him that very first time, right after she heard “Mad World,” she had betrayed his trust at the deepest level.

“Zoey…” Simon exhaled in long, shuddering breaths. 

“I’m so sorry, Simon.” She uttered, placing her hand on his in a gesture of support. Simon tore his hand away instinctively, and Zoey leaned further back in her seat, putting some distance between them.

Simon shook his head and let out a derisive laugh. “You know, things were _fine_ between Jessica and me before you came around. Sure, I couldn’t talk about my grief with her like I could with…” Simon discarded that thought and continued on his tirade, though he sounded more sad than angry. “We could have worked it out. I could have _talked_ to her, told her my truth, before you inserted yourself into our relationship and tore it apart, piece by piece.”

Zoey knew he was right, and she was unsurprised when Simon started singing _yet again._

_Running in circles, coming up tails_

_Heads on a science apart_

_Nobody said it was easy_

_It's such a shame for us to part_

_Nobody said it was easy_

_No one ever said it would be this hard_

_Oh, take me back to the start_

Zoey knew this song. It was ”The Scientist,” by Coldplay—she had recently become acquainted with their body of work. She could no longer hold back her tears, they streamed down her face, neverending, and she let them. Simon was crying, too. They sat there, wordlessly, each wallowing in their emotional turmoil. Finally, Simon broke the silence.

“You really hurt me, Zoey. I- I’ll admit, I carry a lot of grief and trauma with me, and it’s something that I’ve always had trouble escaping. But I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this broken.”

His words destroyed Zoey. She looked into the eyes of the man whose shoulder she had always longed to cry on, whose pain she had yearned to share, whose walls she had wanted to tear down but had never succeeded in doing so. Somehow, even after all he had been through, it was _she_ who had wrecked him.

And yet, Simon relented. “Still… I can’t believe that… after everything you just told me, I still… want to forgive you.” Simon clasped Zoey’s hands and gazed into her eyes like a sick puppy, begging for someone to fix him. When he sang this time, his eyes never parted with Zoey’s.

_No, I can't help my ways_

_It don't make much sense to me_

_All these cold and rainy days_

_Maybe we're meant to be alone_

_Maybe we're meant to be alone_

_Maybe we're meant to be alone_

_Maybe we're meant to be alone_

Even after the song ended, Zoey realized that Simon’s and her hands were still clasped together. It was as if she had just watched Simon process the demise of their entire relationship before her very eyes, laying out all of his very complicated feelings in front of her. It was at that moment that she knew she had to let him go.

“Simon, I think… maybe… we were never meant to last. Whatever this is, I mean.”

“Even though we’re… bonded for _life_ by our grief and this… mysterious connection we share.” Simon cleared his throat and withdrew his hand from hers.

“Because you know now that it _wasn’t_ so mysterious after all.” Zoey finished.

“Yeah,” Simon said quietly, turning his body away from hers as she did the same. They sat on opposite ends of the couch, bodies parallel and eyes staring at the same distant wall. 

“Maybe we’re meant to be… alone. Or, at least, not with each other,” Zoey admitted, and though it was something she had never considered before that moment, she knew it to be true.

Simon stood up from his seat at the same time she did and opened his arms to her. Zoey hugged him for an eternity, knowing that even as much as she had needed Simon during those last few months of her dad’s life, they had only been holding each other back.

When they finally pulled apart, Simon put on his coat and headed for Zoey’s door. He looked back at her and sighed.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Zoey. I don’t think I can talk to you for a while. Please respect that.” Zoey nodded in agreement, knowing that this was exactly what she deserved and what he needed.

“I want you to be happy, Simon.” Zoey said, even though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I know.” Simon acknowledged. “And… I think I can be now.”

There was a pause, a moment in which neither of them was sure exactly what to do next. Zoey averted her gaze from Simon, still taking in the preceding events and coming to terms with what she had done.

Simon finally opened the door and stepped into the hallway, looking over his shoulder one last time.

“You should tell him, Zoey,” Simon gestured at the pile of soy sauce packets on Zoey’s coffee table. “I want you to be happy, too.” He forced a smile and turned around, walking down the stairs and out of Zoey's life for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each of the songs Simon sings is meant to represent one of the stages of grief as he processes everything that happened between him and Zoey. This chapter was heavily music-focused because I imagined this scene as being very painful and emotionally charged.
> 
> The next chapter will be fluffier to ease some of the strain from this one :)


	7. Movie Night Revisited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoey convinces Mo and Max to come over for movie night, but it doesn't go as planned.

Despite herself, Zoey slammed the door as soon as Simon had uttered those last few words. He had gestured at the soy sauce packets as if they were some grand declaration of love from Max. And, sure, she had heard plenty of those from him through song, but this was just a symbol of their friendship. Max had been giving Zoey his soy sauce packets ever since they had first gotten sushi together over five years ago. 

They had been sitting on the bleachers in the lobby of SPRQ Point, only a few weeks into their new jobs and newfound friendship. After eating from the Thai place across the street five times in two weeks, Max had suggested they get Japanese instead. She had ordered a California roll while Max had opted for a more traditional tekka roll, but they had agreed to share an order of gyoza.

Zoey had run out of soy sauce very quickly while she had her share of the gyoza. By the time she had moved onto her California roll, she had none left.

“I can’t believe I already used all of my soy sauce. This is devastating for me.” Zoey had deadpanned as she had shaken her head in genuine defeat.

“Hey, no fear, you can have mine, Zoey.” Max had replied almost automatically, handing her his two packets.

“Max Richman!” Zoey had retorted in shock. “You don’t like soy sauce? I _knew_ I should’ve picked Leif or Tobin to be my new best friend.” She clicked her tongue in disapproval but secretly thanked Max for parting with his packets.

Ever since then, whenever they got Japanese food, Max gave Zoey his soy sauce before they started eating, and today was no exception. She had accumulated quite the collection of packets. But it was just something he did out of habit. It didn’t _mean anything_. The very fact that he had given her his soy sauce packets today, when he was clearly still mad at her, proved exactly that.

Zoey set aside her annoyance at Simon’s suggestive remark and walked into her bedroom, exhausted from the long day of heart songs and difficult conversations. She was out like a light the second her back hit the mattress.

✷ ✷ ✷

After a night of surprisingly peaceful and dreamless sleep, Zoey woke to the comforting knowledge that today was Saturday, which meant she didn’t have to see Simon at work. Though she had no problem giving him space, she still wasn’t looking forward to having to face him after what she did.

The venn diagram of her and Simon’s lives was going to go back to how it had started: two separate circles, even if there was a little bit of overlap where they had found refuge in each other’s grief. Eventually, Zoey could look back on the moments they had shared without regretting everything, but not today.

Today was the perfect day for a guilty pleasure movie, and there was only one movie that satisfied Zoey in that regard: _National Treasure_. There was something about watching Nicholas Cage, Diane Kruger, and Justin Bartha run around trying to keep the Declaration of Independence away from those evil British dudes that really scratched the itch in Zoey’s brain.

Zoey unlocked her phone and instinctively clicked on Max’s contact to invite him over for the movie before reminding herself that they still weren’t technically speaking. Determined to make amends, Zoey sought out the one person she knew would always listen and knocked on his apartment door.

Mo opened the door without hesitation, though he looked surprised to see Zoey. “Awake so soon? I thought you usually slept in on Saturdays.” 

“Yeah, well, yesterday was pretty tiring, so I went to sleep a little earlier than normal,” Zoey shifted uncomfortably. “Are you… headed somewhere?”

Mo glanced down at the bags in his hands and shook his head. “I _was_ considering some retail therapy, but that can wait. You look like you have something to say, so spill!” 

Zoey walked into the apartment and fidgeted with her hands nervously. “So, I did it. I told Simon about my power.”

Mo’s eyes widened in genuine shock. “No way. I totally thought you were going to back down.”

“Okay, I deserve that,” Zoey sighed reluctantly. “Anyway, it went about as well as you would expect. He basically doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“Makes sense,” Mo nodded. 

“It was intense, Mo. He sang me all these heart songs… It was like I was watching the stages of grief unfold before my eyes.”

Mo grimaced. “Look, I didn’t want to say anything, but y’all both have _way_ too much to work out on your own. I hate to say it, but I think you and Simon were doomed from the start.”

“Well, apparently, he thought so too. I know I’m at fault here, and I can accept that.”

“And?” Mo asked, prompting her to respond.

“ _And_ , you’re an amazing friend who has always had my back despite my horrible decision-making and complete disregard for the honest advice you always give me,” Zoey said honestly. “What I mean to say is, I’m sorry, Mo.”

“Look at you, maturely owning up to your mistakes! Is that a flying pig I see?” Mo exaggeratedly craned his head to glance out the window. Zoey smiled in spite of herself.

“Not saying I’m _not_ handling it maturely, but I’d still love to just watch a movie tonight and turn my brain off for a few hours. You in?” 

“Well, it’s not like Eddie’s going to randomly surprise me with a visit since he’s still somewhere in the Caribbean right now. Sure.”

Zoey twisted a piece of hair around her finger nervously. “Hey, uh, you don’t think you could maybe help me convince a certain mutual friend of ours who enjoys cinema to join in?”

Mo raised his eyebrow suspiciously. “You’re not just using me as a mediator to get to Max, are you?”

“No, I swear. I really liked hanging out with all three of us yesterday, however brief that was,” Zoey smiled nervously. “After how everything with Simon went down, I want to spend time with _both_ of my best friends, if you’ll have me.”

Mo considered this. “Deal. I’ll give the man a call.”

“Great! Thanks, Mo. How does eight sound?” 

“It sounds like Movie Night is back on!”

Zoey grinned widely and gave Mo a grateful hug before heading back to her apartment. It was still basically the crack of dawn for her, so she had all day to sulk around the place before Movie Night. Zoey decided to lose herself in household chores, washing all the dishes and tidying up the living room so she could feel in control. Not having the energy to make a grocery run, Zoey decided that the half-empty bottle of wine she had started with Simon would have to do. Thankfully, she still had a wide selection of microwavable popcorn in her pantry from years of tradition.

It had been well over two months since last Movie Night. Zoey remembered it as clear as day.

_“I don’t want the job back.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“Well, look, I really appreciate it, but I liked the way it felt being in charge on the sixth floor. It made me feel good, and I was good at it. I just don’t want to go backwards, Zoey. I was actually walking around North Beach today just thinking, and I realized that I’m excited about the future, you know? Diving into the unknown, trying something new. It might be scary, but—are you mad?”_

_“No. I… like seeing this side of you.”_

_“Oh, cool. Well, yeah, I just feel like life is short, and I’m not sure what—”_

And then she had kissed Max Richman for the very first time, and she hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself back then, but sparks had shot up her spine like something in her had finally _clicked_ , and she had wanted nothing more in that moment than to be his.

Then came the call from Howie, and the moment disappeared into the taillights of Max’s Audi as he drove away from her parents’ home. After six weeks of grieving and shutting herself off from the outside world, Zoey had thought her feelings for Max—however fleeting they had been in that moment—had dissipated. When he had shown up outside her place a month ago and sung to her… that same spark had reappeared. But that was before everything with Simon.

The hours flew by while Zoey tidied up her apartment and then worked on some code for the Chirp. By the time eight o’clock had rolled around, Zoey sat giddily on the couch, waiting for her friends to knock on her door. It wasn’t long before she heard them—two gentle knocks on the door—and sprang from the couch, not even taking a moment to consider how flushed she must look. She opened the door without a moment’s hesitation. 

“Max!” Zoey said, a little too excitedly in comparison to how strained their relationship had been lately.

“Hey, Zo,” Max smiled, holding up a bottle of wine in his left hand. “I thought there might be a chance your fridge was half-empty, so I decided to do my part and bring the wine.”

“You know me so well,” Zoey shook her head through laughter and took the bottle gratefully. “Where’s Mo?”

“No clue. He texted me this morning and told me Movie Night was on at eight at your place, but I haven’t heard from him since.”

“Well, thanks for coming. You know, especially considering the _last time_ we had Movie Night—”

Max cut her off. “No, yeah, of course. I would never pass up on an opportunity to watch _National Treasure_ with you and see that stupid grin on your face whenever Riley says anything.”

“He’s the best character, Max. I don’t make the rules.”

Max took his seat on the right side of the couch. “Wow, Zo. The place looks weirdly presentable for once. You clean?”

“ _Shut up._ I clean regularly. I just put in some extra effort today.” Zoey admonished him while pouring kettle corn into a large bowl.

Max picked up the soy sauce packets from the coffee table. “You keep these?”

Zoey flushed bright red as she remembered the packets. How had they been the _one_ thing she had forgotten to clean up during her deep-clean of the apartment? She turned around and brought over the kettle corn and another bowl of freshly-popped buttery kernels to the coffee table. “ _Hey_ , you better watch it or I’ll accidentally pour some onto your popcorn.”

Max shuddered at the prospect. “Okay, okay, I promise to never question your condiment preferences ever again.”

Zoey giggled and joined Max on the couch. It was like any other normal Movie Night—they were laughing and joking like they had before anything had gone wrong with her dad, with Zoey’s powers, with _Simon_. Zoey wished she could bottle this moment and keep it in her fridge for safekeeping.

Mo walked into the apartment out of the blue, decked out in a shiny gold dress and impressive makeup.

“Wow, Mo, you didn’t have to get all dressed up just for us!” Max joked, crossing his arms and looking over at Mo.

“As much as I do, _genuinely_ , care for the both of you, I would _never_ waste this outfit on a night in! _It begs to be seen!”_ Mo declared proudly.

“Wait, you’re not _ditching_ us, are you?” Zoey asked, shooting daggers with her eyes at Mo and hoping he understood her _real_ question.”

Zoey saw Eddie peer his head in through the door from out in the hallway.

 _“Eddie?”_

“He surprised me with a visit!” Mo enthused, batting his eyelashes at Eddie.

“I was able to get away for a weekend when the cruise ship docked in Florida. We’re going out dancing!” Eddie explained, taking Mo’s hand and giving him a quick spin. _Damn it. They were so perfect together._

“Anyway, the night waits for no one! You two have fun.” Mo winked at Max and Zoey, leaving them both dumbfounded as he led Eddie out and closed the door behind them.

Zoey darted her eyes to the side to appraise Max’s reaction. He was studying his bowl of popcorn intently, not daring to meet her eyes. They had been having _such_ a nice time only a few minutes ago—Zoey wasn’t willing to ruin that with her awkwardness.

“Soooo… What do you say we turn _National Treasure_ into a drinking game?”


	8. Loose Lips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoey and Max turn Movie Night into a drinking game. Drunken confessions ensue.

“Take a sip every time someone says ‘Declaration’ or ‘Free Masons,’ when they name-drop a historical figure, when the Declaration changes hands, and when they solve a clue,” Zoey said, reading the rules off her phone to Max.

“What about when someone says ‘treasure?’” Max grinned.

“I think that much wine would kill us, Max,” Zoey said matter-of-factly, and they both laughed.

“Okay, I’m game,” Max said, and Zoey filled both of their glasses with the wine he had brought. They clinked their glasses and both took long sips to mark the start of the game and ease some of the awkwardness.

Zoey started the movie and watched as the opening credits rolled in, completely enthralled.

“Zo, you’ve seen _National Treasure_ what, like twenty times?”

“Thirty. At _least,”_ Zoey corrected him, her eyes still intensely focused on the screen.

“And yet every time we watch it, it’s like the very first time.” Zoey gave Max a playful punch on the arm, though her eyes never left the screen. _“Ow._ Proving my point.”

Barely three minutes into the movie, they had already taken about ten sips each after multiple mentions of the Free Masons and half a dozen casual Founding Fathers name drops.

“I’m glad we didn’t make ‘treasure’ one of the words. I’d already be _gone,”_ Max said, grinning.

 _“See._ I told you,” Zoey teased him and then took a big gulp of wine. She noticed Max looking at her out of the corner of her eye. “What?”

“That wasn’t one of the buzzwords, why’d you drink?”

“I’m _drinking_ because I don’t like that guy,” Zoey said resolutely, gesturing her wine glass at the screen, where the British antagonist Ian Howe had just made his first appearance.

Max’s eyes widened. “One does not simply _not like_ Sean Bean! The man was in _Lord of the Rings…_ _Game of Thrones…_ he played Odysseus!” 

Zoey wrinkled her nose. “Didn’t he _also_ play Zeus in the horrible film adaptation of Percy Jackson?”

Max looked at her seriously. “We don’t talk about those movies.”

They continued their friendly banter and chatted throughout the movie, taking pauses every few seconds to sip their wine in accordance with the rules of the drinking game. Zoey hadn’t anticipated that she would be drinking even half as much as she did, and an hour into the movie, she had veered past the point of tipsiness into full-blown drunkenness.

“That… is _so weird._ They’re using lemon juice and hairdryers. On the Declaration of Independence!” Zoey narrated the events that unfolded on the screen in drunken disbelief.

“I mean… they have to figure out its secrets somehow,” Max said, though he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than Zoey. “I’m too… drunk. To understand this movie.”

 _Secrets… secrets…_ Zoey had secrets! She even had a few secrets that she was keeping from _Max._ She may not have been covered in lemon juice and getting ambushed by a hairdryer, but she _was_ drunk. Being drunk, obviously, meant there were no consequences to her actions.

“I have to _tell you something,”_ Zoey blurted out, her words slightly slurred.

“What?” Max said, turning his head to glance at Zoey.

“Simon and I… kind of… broke up,” Zoey began, looking over at Max to gauge his reaction. “I mean, we _definitely_ broke up, for _sure,_ because I told him about my power.”

“Oh,” Max said slowly, as if he was unsure exactly how to respond. “I’m sorry, Zoey.”

“No, no, it’s for… the best. I wasn’t being fair to him. And with everything with Jessica… it’s not like _he_ was fully present, either.”

Max nodded once but said nothing.

“And, you know… while I’m telling the truth and whatnot… _alcohol,_ you know…” Zoey beat around the bush. 

Max looked confused. Zoey wondered if it was the wine.

“I don’t know if you remember, but about a month ago, you showed up at my apartment with Japanese food…” Zoey peered over at Max for some kind of acknowledgment. He responded with a slight nod.

“You sort of… sang to me. A love song. ‘Yellow’ by Coldplay… I’ve listened to it a few times now… Okay, maybe _more than a few times…”_ her voice trailed off.

“I _sang_ to you?” Max asked, too inebriated to conceal the hurt in his voice. “But you—”

“Told you you didn’t. I know. I thought it would be easier to shut you out rather than admit my… _true feelings,”_ Zoey mumbled more honestly than she ever would if she was sober.

“Which are?” Max asked boldly, a look of worry crossing his face.

“I haven’t been able to stop _thinking about you_ since last movie night. Since we kissed. It’s been clouding my mind like a… _bad headache_ , and it’s just gotten worse since I kept telling myself that if I told you, if I admitted how… how I _feel_ about you… I could lose…” Zoey started breathing heavily, fully coming to grips with the fact that _this was it—_ the moment Max could turn his back on her forever. She looked up at him and started bawling without warning.

Max immediately pulled Zoey into a tight hug, and she felt herself relax into his embrace. With his strong arms around her, Zoey felt protected and safe and shielded from all her past mistakes and fears. He didn’t have to say anything; Zoey heard all she needed from the sound of his heart beating close to hers.

After what simultaneously felt like an eternity and far too little time, they finally pulled apart.

“Max…” Zoey started, feeling her mouth about to open the floodgates to the nearly three months of thoughts and feelings she had been repressing. _“I need you to know—”_

 _“No…”_ Max cut her off, steadying Zoey with one hand on each of her shoulders. “Not like this.” He spoke softly, a hint of pain hidden behind his eyes.

“Zoey, thank you for telling me what you did… about my heart song. But we’re _both_ too drunk right now to really be having this conversation. I know what it’s like to have my feelings pour out of me without my control… I can’t let you say something you might not really want to.”

“But Max, I _do—”_

 _“Please,”_ Max implored her, and Zoey stopped. She wanted so _badly_ to give in to her lowered inhibitions and allow herself to say the words that Sober Zoey would never admit out loud, but she knew that wasn’t fair—to herself _or_ to Max. 

Zoey steadied herself. Not even _National Treasure_ could fix what she had broken tonight. She had to cut Movie Night short once again if she and Max had any shot.

“You can’t drive back to your place like this,” Zoey said to Max, blinking back tears. 

“I can sleep on the couch… if that’s okay with you,” Max offered.

“No. You should take my bed.”

“You know I can’t do that. After what just happened… you deserve a good night’s sleep,” Zoey opened her mouth as if to protest, but Max doubled down. “Really, Zoey. I’ll be more than okay.”

Zoey felt a tear roll down her cheek before she could think to conceal it. “You’re too good for me, Max Richman.”

Max brushed the tear aside with his thumb and smiled gently. “Good night, Zoey.”

Zoey turned off the movie and slowly got up from the couch. She walked over to her bedroom door and turned around one last time to see Max’s eyes following her protectively. He smiled as they made eye contact, and Zoey reluctantly closed the door on Movie Night.

✷ ✷ ✷

Zoey awoke to a violent beam of sunlight beating down on her eyelids. She cursed the arrival of morning loudly and rolled onto her stomach, hiding her eyes from the brightness. Miraculously, she had foregone a hangover despite drinking more than her fair share of wine the night before. _The night before. Max…_

Zoey forced herself out of bed and found herself still wearing yesterday’s clothes—she had probably knocked out the second she had hit the mattress. She cracked open her bedroom door slowly and saw that Max was still sprawled out on the couch. Not wanting to wake him, she tiptoed over to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water.

“Hmm?” Max stirred on the couch, rolling onto his side.

Zoey poured a second glass of water for her groggy best friend and walked over to the couch. She set Max’s glass on the coffee table and sat in the nearby armchair.

Max sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes. “Morning, Zo.”

“Sorry… didn’t mean to wake you up,” Zoey said tentatively. “How are you feeling? I got you some water.”

“Thanks.” Max took a grateful gulp from the glass and set it back down on the table. “Looks like I somehow managed to avoid a hangover, so not too shabby. How are… _you_ feeling?”

Zoey squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. “Good. Nothing weird, nothing different. Totally normal night.”

“Right…” Max furrowed his eyebrows slightly and took another sip of water. 

“Look, Max…” Zoey took a shuddering breath. “I think I… was in kind of a weird headspace last night. I said some things that I don’t know if I was really ready to say.”

Max nodded knowingly. “Yeah… we were pretty drunk, huh?”

Zoey murmured assent. “I had a nice time with you last night. _Really_ nice. But…” Zoey considered the impact of what she was about to say. She knew that last night hadn’t done them any favors—her and Max’s relationship was just as complicated as ever. “Can we just… go back to being best friends? Being so distant from you for the past month has been excruciating.”

“It has,” Max agreed, the shadow of a smile crossing his face. “It felt so weird not talking to you every day.”

They shared a meaningful stare. Zoey thought about cracking a joke to break the tension, but Max took matters into his own hands.

“I… uh… should get going. Big day of unemployment ahead of me.”

Max rose from the couch and headed for the door. Zoey sat frozen in her chair, wishing she had the strength in her to say something. But as Max turned around one more time before walking out the door, she could only meet his tender expression with a blank stare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 9 will probably be the last of this fic unless I feel like it needs a little more fluff. Stay tuned ;)


	9. Those Three Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoey makes up her mind: she’s going to tell Max how she really feels, and this time, nothing is going to hold her back.

The second Max shut the door behind him, Zoey burst into tears. She had no idea why it was so agonizing for her to verbalize her thoughts and feelings. She had tried to deny it to herself for months, but it was Max… it had always _been_ Max. Why was it that she could only admit that when she was drunk? And Max had stopped her. He had known what she was going to say, and he had _stopped her._ That was a luxury she had not afforded him—that she had not been _able_ to afford him—all those times when he had poured out his feelings to her in song.

She knew Max had been so patient, so _caring_ with her—and she had said nothing. Not because she didn’t want to—she _did_ want to—but because her emotions were a big deal. A huge one, in fact. She was in love with her best friend, and she _had_ to tell him.

Zoey thought about knocking on Mo’s door and asking for his advice, but she knew then that this was something she had to do on her own. She pulled out her laptop and got to work.

✷ ✷ ✷

After practicing in the mirror for a few hours, Zoey knew exactly what she needed to say to Max and how she was going to say it. Planning everything out down to the tiniest detail eased a bit of Zoey’s anxiety. She was horrible with emotions, but she _wasn’t_ horrible at analytical thinking, and she had devised the perfect plan.

Zoey rifled through her dresser and found the sweater she had been looking for—maroon with magenta flowers on it. It was the same sweater she had been wearing on her first day as Manager of Engineering—the day that Max had first sung a love song to her. It was then that she had found out that he _thought_ he loved her. After nearly a year of wrestling with the thought, Zoey didn’t have to think anymore—she _knew_ she loved him.

In a hurry, Zoey checked her phone: just past two o’clock. She thought about calling Max and asking him to come by her apartment but decided against it. In that moment, she resolved to show up for him just as he had done for her numerous times without her even having to ask.

Zoey drove to Max’s apartment building and took a deep breath, steadying herself behind the steering wheel. _This was it._ Time for her own grand gesture. She walked up the two flights of stairs to his door and knocked.

And knocked again.

Nothing.

 _Where was he?_ Zoey doubted that if Max was inside his apartment at that very moment that he wouldn’t open the door. It wasn’t like he was at work—Zoey chastised herself for the thought. This wasn’t going to be easy. She _had to find Max._

Zoey walked back to her car and mulled over the possibilities in her head. _“Big day of unemployment ahead of me,”_ he had said earlier. At the time, she had thought it was just sardonic humor, but maybe Max was actually doing some serious soul-searching. Especially after the conversation they had had the night before, the possibility seemed more likely than not. And if Max had gone somewhere to clear his head, she had a pretty good idea of where to find him.

Zoey plugged the destination into her phone’s GPS and started driving.

✷ ✷ ✷

After a short walk from where she had parked, Zoey finally reached the Filbert Steps, a steep wooden staircase tucked behind an abundance of greenery that led up to Telegraph Hill. She climbed the first hundred or so steps until she reached the landing, where there was a path to a garden.

He was there. 

“Max!” Zoey yelled, running over to him as he sat on the exact bench where she had predicted he would be.

 _“Zoey?_ How’d you find me?” His eyes widened as he rose from the bench.

 _“North… Beach…”_ Zoey managed as she breathed heavily from the taxing walk up the stairs. “I know you like coming up here to clear your head.”

“That’s right,” Max murmured softly. “But… what are you doing here?”

“What I _need_ to do. What I should have done months ago.” Zoey bravely took a step closer to Max and took both of his hands in hers. She looked deeply into his warm brown eyes and began to sing.

  
  


_We'll do it all_

_Everything_

_On our own_

_We don't need_

_Anything_

_Or anyone_

Zoey led Max to the bench and sat down on it, leaning back while never breaking eye contact.

_If I lay here_

_If I just lay here_

_Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_

Max grinned and mirrored Zoey’s posture, leaning back on the bench and watching her as if she was the full moon lighting up the night sky. Zoey sat upright and took Max’s hands again as she sang the next few verses.

_I don't quite know_

_How to say_

_How I feel_

_Those three words_

_Are said too much_

_They're not enough_

Giggling slightly through the chorus, she returned to her previous choreography of leaning against the bench, sliding closer to Max as she sang.

_If I lay here_

_If I just lay here_

_Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_

_Forget what we're told_

_Before we get too old_

_Show me a garden that's bursting into life_

Zoey leaned her head on Max’s shoulder and felt him rest his head on hers as she continued the song.

_Let's waste time_

_Chasing cars_

_Around our heads_

_I need your grace_

_To remind me_

_To find my own_

_If I lay here_

_If I just lay here_

_Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_

_Forget what we're told_

_Before we get too old_

_Show me a garden that's bursting into life_

_All that I am_

_All that I ever was_

_Is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see_

_I don't know where_

_Confused about how as well_

_Just know that these things will never change for us at all_

_If I lay here_

_If I just lay here_

_Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_

Zoey sang the last few notes of the song and took Max’s hands in her own one last time. She couldn’t help but smile at the massive grin on his face, one that she knew was reserved just for her.

“You _sang_ to me,” Max said in amazement, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

“You bare your soul to me every single time we’re together, Max, and I wanted to bare mine to you for once,” Zoey smiled and took a deep breath, tossing aside the words she had practiced in the mirror and allowing them to come to her in the moment. “I’m not good with emotions. You know that. And the very first time I ever found out how you really felt about me,” she gestured to her sweater, “I freaked out a little bit. Okay, _a lot._

“These last several months… my heart finally started communicating with my brain. It wasn’t easy at first. When I sang ‘I’m Yours’ to you, I was still confused, or maybe I wasn’t—but I wasn’t in the place to really examine my feelings. But they were obvious, really, all along.” Zoey bit her lip nervously.

“Three words…” She paused only for a fleeting moment, unable to keep them in any longer. “I love you.”

Max’s eyes shone with warmth and devotion _—they really were perfect._ “After all this time… I love you, too, Zo. Always will,” he said, his voice a little choked up. Zoey crashed her lips against his before the words could fully set in, allowing them to linger between them as he pulled her closer. She kissed Max with the fervor of months of waiting, relishing in the moment as she felt his hands tangle in her hair. When they finally pulled apart, Zoey giggled out of pure joy and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him back in again. 

“That was quite the song choice,” Max said later as Zoey laid her head on his shoulder again gently, hugging him around his arm. He kissed her forehead sweetly. “I didn’t take you for a Snow Patrol fan.”

“Come _on,_ Max, everyone knows that song,” Zoey said, rolling her eyes in mock offense.

“You’re not everyone,” Max grinned. “That’s why I love you.”

Zoey leaned up and gave Max a quick peck on the lips, deciding that she would never get tired of those three words. Despite what the song might say, they _were_ enough—knowing that Max was there with her, that he had the audacity to love _her_ —that was everything.

“What now?” Zoey asked.

“Lie with me, and let’s just forget the world.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol.
> 
> I'm going to be publishing the final chapter of this fic, chapter 10, tomorrow. It's pure fluff but ties everything together nicely. Thank you all for joining me on this journey! :)


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few quick scenes in which Zoey’s family and coworkers find out about her and Max.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liked how the last chapter ended but couldn’t resist writing some fluff to tie everything together! Enjoy :)

Zoey awoke the next morning to the sound of Max’s steady heartbeat under her cheek. She lifted her head slowly from his chest and found him still fast asleep. Mesmerized by his tranquil expression, Zoey decided she would be perfectly content staying in that exact position for the rest of the day. Despite herself, she placed a gentle kiss on Max’s forehead and watched as his eyes slowly fluttered open.

“Morning,” Max smiled sleepily, blinking slowly as his eyes adjusted to the light. Zoey returned her head to its original position on his chest and wrapped an arm around him, sighing deeply as she committed the moment to memory.

“Can we just stay like this forever?” Zoey mused as Max lightly traced circles in her hair with his finger.

“We _could,_ but something tells me Joan wouldn’t be too enthused about you skipping out on work.” 

“I hate that you’re right,” Zoey groaned, begrudgingly sitting up and stretching her arms above her. “Whoever decided that weekends should end was definitely a sadist.”

 _“Definitely,”_ Max agreed drowsily as he let his head sink back into his pillow.

Zoey shook her head with a smile as she got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. While she was brushing her teeth, her phone vibrated with an incoming phone call. Zoey picked up the phone, spitting out her toothpaste.

“Good morning, Mom,” Zoey said cheerfully while rinsing her toothbrush.

“Hi, honey. How are you feeling?” Maggie asked.

“Better than I have been in a long time,” Zoey said honestly, considering the events of the past few months. 

“I am so glad to hear that, Zoey,” Maggie paused. “I’d love to have the whole family over for dinner tonight, if you can make it.”

“Sounds perfect!” Zoey hesitated before asking a question that she had asked many times before without incident. “Can I… invite Max?”

“Well, of course! I said the _whole family,_ didn’t I?” 

Zoey smiled at the notion that her mother considered the man she loved— _the man she loved!—_ part of the family and wondered how anything could be more perfect. 

“I don’t really feel like cooking. Would you mind picking something up on the way here?” Maggie asked.

“Not at all,” Zoey said, knowing exactly what she wanted to eat.

After saying goodbye to her mother, Zoey practically skipped back over to her bedroom and found Max dozed off again. She sat next to him on the bed and picked up Max’s hand, which was sprawled across the bed next to him. Zoey gave his hand a light squeeze, earning a smile from the sleepy man.

“As cute as you look all drifted off into dreamland, I have to interrupt your slumber to ask you something,” Zoey stifled a laugh at Max’s feigned annoyance at her repeated attempts to wake him up.

“I don’t know… I’m so _tired…_ How _ever_ will I wake up?” Max yawned dramatically, and Zoey put an end to his joking with a long, deep kiss. “You have my attention.”

“My mom invited us over for dinner. What do you think?” Zoey smiled expectantly.

“I think I’ve been over to your mom’s for dinner hundreds of times. Of course I’m in.”

“I _know,_ but you’ve never been to my mom’s for dinner as my _boyfriend,”_ Zoey gave him a pointed expression. 

Max’s eyes widened at the final word. “Boyfriend, huh?”

“We can discuss the label. I just figured since, you know, we said ‘I love you’… and we had… _sex,”_ Zoey whispered the last word like saying it louder might get her in trouble, which elicited an amused look from Max. “Do you… not want to be my boyfriend?”

Max pretended to think about it exaggeratedly, stroking his chin with his finger. _“Hmm…_ I don’t know. Maybe I should make a pros and cons list…”

Zoey shoved him lightly back onto his pillow, prompting a laugh from Max. “I would love nothing more than to be your boyfriend.”

Zoey could practically feel her eyes light up like a marquee. She leaned down to where she had left Max lying on the pillow and captured his lips with her own, running her fingers through his hair as she pulled him closer. 

“So… _boyfriend…_ would you care to accompany me on a pre-work coffee run?” Zoey gave Max another small kiss and then waited for his response.

“I would love to… _girlfriend.”_ Zoey rolled her eyes at Max’s teasing but still smiled in spite of herself.

Zoey rose from the bed happily to get dressed for work, but not before giving Max another quick kiss.

✷ ✷ ✷

When Zoey and Max stopped outside SPRQ Point, nonfat latte and black coffee in tow, Zoey paused to think for a second.

“What’s on your mind?” Max smiled, brushing a stray curl out of her face.

“I was just wondering… if you wanted to walk me up to the fourth floor?” Zoey asked, raising her eyebrows in anticipation. 

Max shifted uncomfortably. “Are you sure? I mean, what about Simon?”

 _“Well…_ he kind of gave me the extra push I needed to stop lying to myself about how I felt about you.”

An unmistakable look of surprise crossed Max’s face. “Really? What’d he say?”

Zoey blushed furiously and rocked back on her heels. _“Soy sauce packets,”_ she barely whispered.

“What?” Max leaned in teasingly.

“Soy sauce packets!” She said a little too loudly, turning a few heads of passersby. 

Max’s mouth stretched into a toothy grin. “You knew you loved me because I gave you my _soy sauce packets?”_ He slung his arms around her lower back, pulling Zoey in closer. 

“It’s very thoughtful,” Zoey eyed him admonishingly. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss Max but pulled away early, shooting him a teasing smile as she led him by hand into the building. 

✷ ✷ ✷

Zoey and Max got off the elevator and headed towards Zoey’s office, passing Simon’s workspace along the way. Zoey looked over and noticed his eyes following them. She offered him a weak smile and received a thumbs-up in return. Simon might not be ready to be friends, but he was being about as cool as she could have expected.

Zoey led Max into her office and sat down dramatically in her chair, gesturing around her. “So? What do you think?”

“Is it weird if I say I’m a little intimidated by you?” Max joked just as he had when Zoey had first been promoted to Manager of Engineering. 

“Oh, please.” Zoey grinned as Max stood in front of her desk with his hands on the surface, leaning over slightly as they laughed together. 

Tobin strode into Zoey’s office nonchalantly. “Sup, Zoey. Max.” He paused in the doorway and took a second look at the scene before him, Zoey gazing up at Max with a flirty smile while he peered down at her with a similar expression.

“Oh. My. _God.”_ Tobin looked from Zoey, to Max, to Zoey again, and to Max again, pointing a finger at each of them. “I _knew_ something was up when you were in the men’s room that one time! Susan from HR wouldn’t believe me when I told her.”

He peeked his head out into the bullpen and called out, _“Leif! Get over here, you have to see this!”_

Leif walked in and leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms smugly. _“Max._ Nice to see you again. I was right,” he looked over at Tobin, holding his hand up for a high-five, which Tobin enthusiastically completed. _“Big ol’ crush on Zoey.”_

Zoey glared at the coders from behind her desk. _“Zoey_ is your boss, and _she_ would very much like it if you left us alone.”

“Ha, she said _‘us,’”_ Tobin smirked, jabbing Leif in the side with his thumb. After another laserlike glare from Zoey, the men awkwardly shuffled back to their desks.

“Man, I missed it here,” Max grinned, and Zoey scoffed in amusement. “Pick you up after work?”

“Absolutely.” He leaned down and gave her a brief kiss goodbye before walking out. Zoey watched her boyfriend as he left, turning around for one more jovial glance before he stepped onto the elevator.

✷ ✷ ✷

Zoey and Max had picked up Japanese takeout on their way to the Clarke home after consulting with Zoey’s family and seeing what they wanted. They stood on the doorstep, clutching the brown paper bags and exchanging nervous glances.

“Are we going to tell them right away?” Max asked, sounding significantly less confident than he usually did.

“Hmm… what’s the fun in that?” Zoey grinned, which seemed to ease Max’s nerves. She jabbed the doorbell with her elbow while juggling two bags in her hands.

A few moments later, Maggie had opened the door. “Zoey! Max!” She beckoned them inside, her bright smile faltering at the sound of a piercing wail from the living room.

“Oh, you’re here! Perfect,” Emily said desperately, handing Miles over to Max, who had automatically set the bags of takeout on the ground to support the screaming baby’s head.

“Miles is in a mood today,” David explained to Zoey as he collapsed onto the couch, Emily climbing up next to him and resting her head on his shoulder in exhaustion.

“Babe, he acts like this _every_ day. I think we just have to accept that we’ve created a monster,” Emily sighed, giving Max a look of approval. Miles had stopped crying and was now gurgling happily in Max’s arms as he rocked him lightly. Zoey admired her nurturing boyfriend from afar before walking up next to him and setting a hand on his forearm as she watched Miles doze off in his arms. 

Despite their exhaustion, Emily and David immediately shot each other pointed glances at the subtle contact. They looked up at Maggie, who simply shrugged.

“Hi, Mi-Mi!” Zoey cooed at the baby. “You like Uncle Max, don’t you?” 

Max’s ears reddened at _“Uncle Max,”_ but Zoey’s family seemed unfazed. 

“You know, if Miles was going to have a godparent, we’d ask you in a heartbeat, Max.” David nodded.

 _“Hey,_ what about your sister?” Zoey asked, only slightly annoyed.

“If you spontaneously develop the ability to quiet down the baby, then sure,” David grinned and crossed his arms.

✷ ✷ ✷

After Emily and David instructed Max from their comfortable couch positions to put Miles down to sleep, the family all gathered in the kitchen. Maggie unpacked the bags of takeout, handing each person their meal.

While David stole a piece of ginger off Emily’s plate, Max handed his soy sauce packets to Zoey. She accepted them gratefully, giggling slightly at how automatic the transaction had been. 

“That was weirdly cute of the two of you,” Emily remarked frankly, eyeing David out of the corner of her eye. 

David shot a look at Maggie, who smiled knowingly back at Emily. 

“Oh, _stop it._ You’re all being so obvious,” Zoey rolled her eyes lightheartedly.

“Look who’s talking,” David scoffed jokingly, cocking his eyebrow at Zoey and Max. “Are you going to admit what’s going on here or do we have to _ask_ you like normal people?”

“You? Normal? _Never,”_ Zoey grinned smugly. “If you _must_ know, Max and I are together.”

“About time!” Maggie chuckled, crossing her arms as she leaned back in her chair and assessed the couple. 

David reluctantly pulled out his wallet and passed Emily a twenty-dollar bill, which she plucked from his hands in triumph. 

“Do I even want to ask?” Max looked at the couple wide-eyed.

“No big deal, Max. I just won. As usual,” Emily shot her husband a satisfied smirk.

“Yeah, well, only because _you two_ weren’t supposed to get together for another week. I _just_ missed the cutoff,” David shook his head in genuine defeat.

“I don’t think I could have waited another _second,”_ Zoey said, smiling up at Max. She tilted her head up and beckoned him in for a quick kiss, shooting David a glare when he pretended to gag.

As the meal continued, the family settled into a comfortable conversation, devolving into arguments and absurd anecdotes along the way. Zoey sat with the feeling of pure contentedness that had overtaken her, wishing she could internalize it forever. With a glance into the living room at the part of the couch where Mitch had loved to sit, she was filled not with an overwhelming sense of grief, but with peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind comments throughout this process!! I've loved writing this fic and may or may not have something else in the works... Stay tuned ;)


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